


Richie Tozier: Dead

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Cause The Devil Is Surprisingly Chill, Deal with a Devil, Hell, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Woke Devil, but then he's not, richie is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Guess what, Rich—you’re dead. And gay, but I don’t believe in labels,” the actual f*cking devil said
Relationships: The Devil & Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Richie Tozier: Dead

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A CRACKFIC! In no way, shape or form is this legit. I just want Richie and the Devil to chill together.

Richie looked around at the fiery hellscape around him. It was like the literal textbook definition of what people thought Hell was. Shit was just randomly lit on fire, and the sky was a bright blood red. People (souls would be more appropriate) were miserably walking around with their heads hanging low. Richie gulped loudly before rubbing his eyes. 

_This was a nightmare_

_This was a nightmare_

_This was a night mare_

The (dead) comedian cracked open an eye to reveal the same surrounding as when he first closed them. 

_Fuckkkkk_

"Ohhhh, fresh meat," a cackling voice boomed behind Richie. He turned around and saw a man dressed in an all red suit with messy platinum blond hair covering most of his dull red eyes. He had a pair of heart-shaped glasses perched atop his head as well ,with little horns extruding from the corners of it. The thing about the strange man that stood out most to Richie was his knee-high boots with knifes replaced as the high heels. Richie barely knew who this man was, yet he knew he was his fucking soulmate. 

"Uh...hi. I'm--"

"--Richie Tozier. I know, dude, I'm Satan, but most people just call me the Devil," the supposed 'Devil' retorted, pulling a bright red lollipop out of the breast pocket of his suit and sucking on it. Richie stared, flabbergasted, at the man in front of him. 

_Why does the Devil look like a fucking twink?_

"You're the Devil? Like seriously, you're not shitting me?" RIchie gawked. 

"Yeah, man. I know I don't look like the typical version of what most people would image the Devil as, but I'm me. I've been claiming lives since the begging of times--little jingle I created for myself. Well, it was actually it was that guy who played Mr. Heckles on FRIENDS who gave me that jingle, but I basically own him so...my jingle."

"So, I'm dead?" Richie asked sincerely.

"Yeah, dude. Congrats by the way."

"How did I die? Wait--why the fuck am I in Hell? I was a bitch when I was alive, but I wasn't that big of a bitch." 

The Devil dramatically groaned," You killed yourself when your friend died after saving you. People who commit suicide almost always go to Hell--don't ask me why. The rare exception of someone killing their self and going to Heaven is based off of the person ever smoked a joint. Fucking mechanics of who goes where in the afterlife is screwed. The Good Place really was on par with that logic. Also, can you imagine how many people smoke cigarettes, it's disgusting? I prefer to vape."

Richie felt his emotions glide over him as the Devil ranted. He killed himself? He didn't remember that, the last thing from his life he remembered was Eddie dying in Neibolt House after being impaled by It. 

"So...I killed myself because of Eddie?"

"Ah, yes--Edward Kaspbarak, a diamond in the rough. He went to Heaven which really isn't that big of a surprise, you're pal Stanley Uris is there, too. That bitch never smoked a cigarette--incredible." 

"Can I go see them?" Richie asked, his hoped raising slightly. 

"Fuck no. If the big man upstairs figured out that I let you have access to his domain then he'll rid me of my ability to conjure up discontinued foods from McDonald's."

"But...but, I don't belong here. I didn't do anything bad, I deserve to be with Eddie." Richie whined.

"Listen, man, I feel your struggle, I do, but I don't make the rules. You came here because some cog in the machine said you were meant to be here, I'm just the welcome party."

"I feel really fucking welcomed, thanks," Richie bitterly spat. 

"Be whiney all you want, but I'm not budging. You wanna play the gay card? Go right a-fucking-head. I once had to wiggle my way out of a conversation with a blind, Latina, lesbian with a conservative dad who hated women and a liberal mom who was addicted to crack--after that I can handle anything," the Devil mused.

"Gay card?"

"Jesus, dude--you're so fucking slow," the Devil complained.

"I'm sorry for being a little behind on the concept that I'm fucking dead and talking to whatever the fuck you are."

"Stop being a brat. Guess what, Rich--you're dead. And gay, but I don't believe in labels," the actual fucking Devil said, his eyes burning a darker shade of red," If you don't believe in labels either, then I'm sorry, but one thing's certain--you like dick."

Richie gaped at the Devil as he slowly slid his heart-shaped glasses down his face. 

"Sorry, I just get so pissed off sometimes. When I get mad my eyes turn black, and if I look at anyone when my eyes are black, they go to Purgatory where they're sentenced to find a soul they don't have or whatever--it sucks." 

"Uh...so I'm gay?" Richie backtracked awkwardly. 

"Yeah, go you."

"Are you?"

"Look, I'm flattered, but I'm just not into anyone. My sexuality is just constantly under wraps, and my intentions on getting it up and running are very weak. I'm sure you'll find a nice man here, though. My jingle guy's grandson is a real lad. He only robbed like two 7-Elevens when he was alive."

"No, I wasn't asking you out, it's just that you seem...eccentric..."Richie mumbled, gesturing to the Devil's outfit.

"Well, I kinda have to be if I wanna run this shitshow. People here are always either depressed or horny, sometimes both. Sad sex is huge here."

"Is there a bar here? I kinda wanna drink away my feelings right now."

"You're getting over this whole dead thing awfully quickly. You ok?"

"Yeah, if anything I wait a couple of years and Bev gets to join me here," Richie sighed. 

"In the mean time, I'll keep you company--I know a great bar called the "Gay'd My Way To The Grave"--it's a real hoot.

"Sounds good, but you're paying." 

"This is Hell, you think we have a currency system?"


End file.
